


WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 DAY 31

by CuteCabaret



Series: WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 [27]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, F/F, Femslash, Kinktober 2020, PWP, Sleep Sex, Somnophilia, Whumptober 2020, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteCabaret/pseuds/CuteCabaret
Summary: Poppy and Noir have a very interesting way of being kind to each other. Poppy treats Noir by letting her do her fairy duties, and Noir repays in a different way.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950670
Kudos: 4





	WHUMP TO KINK TOBER 2020 DAY 31

**Author's Note:**

> This is the grand finale! I had fun with this one too. I'm so proud of myself for being able to complete this challenge/tober event, even if the schedule slipped a lot and some pieces were objectively better than others. Thank you to everybody who bookmarked and left kudos and read and viewed and even the people who just skimmed a few lines and decided it wasn't their cup of tea. I look forward to trying something like this again in the future. This account won't be abandoned after this, but it might be a week or more until I get a chance to write more, so I hope, to those that like my work, this series is enough to tide you over, lol. And yeah, this entire challenge turned out more skewed on kink vs whump, especially this last entry. Maybe next time I'll do the opposite. At least they're all F/F though. As always, if you have any questions about my characters or worldbuilding or anything, I do lurk my tumblr, all-women-kick-ass. I know almost all of these give no context to the characters themselves.
> 
> Prompt: Experiment/Somnophilia
> 
> The experiment is the consensual somnophilia itself. Cheating? Probably. But I wanted to end this with something sweet instead of something mean.

By now, the safe house apartment thing that Noir had set up had become basically a little cave Poppy could run to and hide in whenever the world got too stressful and she needed to not have the burden of childcare responsibilities, or job related problems or the hassle of having to fight Shadows. It gave her the choice of letting Noir serve her every whim while she curled up and did absolutely nothing beyond just exist, or, if she wanted some level of obligation and duty, Noir would gladly let her swap and lavish Noir with attention instead. Sex wasn’t always involved, either – sometimes it was babysitting Poppy while she endured a cold for a day or two – her weird psychic biology had her recover from illness in record time, with the trade-off of having to deal with much more intense symptoms. Sometimes, Noir was the one who’s mask of indifference was cracking, and Poppy took initiative in asking to come here so that the rest of the team, or the other cats, didn’t see her crumble to pieces. And sometimes, it was just a spur of the moment, “hey we’re both free, let’s chill in private” type thing where anything could happen, no real planning.

That was what today was, Poppy curled up in bed, resting on Noir’s chest and watching ASMR videos on her phone together. There were dishes in the sink, and if you looked closer, the whole place had a thin layer of dust in the corners. They hadn’t been here for a few weeks, and by Japan’s standards, this counted as messy. By Noir’s standards, this was slightly unacceptable too, she really ought to make it spotless if they were going to stay here for a few hours, but Poppy, with her lax by American standards opinions, felt it was fine. No need to stress out over dust! Neither of them were allergic, anyway. Maybe the dishes were kind of an eyesore, but they weren’t, like, encrusted with food? And only the two of them were ever gonna be in this place.

That thought wrenched her out of the sleepy haze she had fallen into as soft spoken words slipped into her ears, and she paused the video, glancing at Noir. Noir returned the look with eyes clouded by confusion, and while Poppy wasn’t intentionally looking for it, she “saw” Noir’s pulse quicken the way her own usually did when she was stuck in PTSD flashback hell. She fumbled with her phone, attempting to grab Noir’s hand, maybe a little too hastily, and watched, felt, in horror as it just made Noir’s vitals more wobbly, more anxious, which was making Poppy start to feel the sinking cloud of anxiety wash over herself -

She swallowed and ended this horrible feedback loop before it could get any worse. “I shouldn’t be making fun of you if you wanna clean this place up a bit.” After all, this was Noir’s apartment – if she wanted it immaculate, that was her right. Right? “I should have just let you clean up first.” Because for Noir to do her special brand of housework, there were fey rules to follow. Doing all of this the mundane way would take forever, and although Poppy wasn’t entirely clear on every law and loophole, she had to be here if Noir wanted things to shine with fairy magic. Well, she was here now – it shouldn’t take too long, right? This place was tiny for a reason. She settled in and got comfortable, giving Noir a grin.

Noir took a deep breath. Poppy apologizing did make her heart glow a little, but in reality, Poppy was probably right? A few dishes weren’t too big of a deal, and it wasn’t that dusty and the bathroom was fine… “Thank you.” She wasn’t going to forget to actually show appreciation, and hell, Poppy probably secretly planned to make her some elaborate strawberry and cream dessert as payment later, maybe cake or something. Silly, she didn’t need elaborate schemes like this to share food, but oh well. It wasn’t like they had any serious plans this was derailing either. So, she gathered a buzz of magic, and Poppy felt the world grow delightfully warm and hazy and soft and then she was fast asleep, confident that the place would be sparkling the way Noir liked it when she woke up.

Noir settled into her routine after that, starting with the bathroom, since it had the least amount of grime. The perks of being totally climate controlled beyond what regular air conditioning and heating and fans could provide meant it was safe from the humidity that’d make mold a problem, if it hadn’t been used in a while. That didn’t mean dust didn’t accumulate, but the entire apartment was a minimalist’s dream, so there were no extra bits and bobs to clean, not here, not the main living area, not the little kitchen…

Changing the sheets for fresh ones, even with Poppy actually in bed, was easy thanks to teleportation, and Poppy didn’t even stir. Noir tucked her in anyway, out of habit, and paused, studying her. Her roots were starting to grow in, a tiny bit, a speck of light brown tucked into the corner of a sea of blue-black hair dye. Noir brushed it out of sight, reminding herself to tell Poppy later, before it got noticeable from a distance. It was a minimal makeup day, it seemed, and yeah, Poppy was in pjs, not all dressed to the nines. She didn’t need layers of product and finery to keep Noir impressed and engaged, and Noir liked her bare face anyway. Her lips were all cute and pink, her fingers curled around nothing. She wasn’t giving off any REM brainwaves either, Munmun reported from the space between worlds, and Noir confirmed her own suspicions that indeed, it hadn’t been that long. All she had left to do were the dishes, but she felt frozen to the side of the bed, unable to tear away from this adorable picture to focus on her last remaining task. She gave into the temptation, running her fingers through Poppy’s hair, but strayed no further. Not without permission, no matter how warm inside she felt right now, staring at Poppy’s cuteness, clad in just enough makeup to prove to the world that she was, indeed, actually twenty seven years old.

She could get permission, though. It’d be simple enough to have Munmun be the messenger, visit Poppy in a dream – well, prompt one first, because REM hadn’t been reached yet, even if the magic made Poppy unrousable from stages one to three of NREM – ask, and receive an answer. If it was no, she could just wait for the feeling to pass, distract herself with dishes. It was a simple biological urge, and she had millennia of practice ignoring it. And if it was yes… Noir held her breath, watching Poppy’s eyelids twitch, waiting for an answer.

From Poppy’s perspective, it was just like being asleep normally. She never lucid dreamed before, but Noir’s magic kept her from outwardly reacting with anything more than a slight temporary increase in heart rate when Munmun popped into the beginning of what looked like a very ordinary nonsense dream: sitting on a park bench in a wild meadow. It felt like she had infinite time to ponder Noir’s query, and she clapped her hands in delight when pen and paper just appeared out of the aether at her thought, so she could properly write down the pros and cons. Pros: A new way to experience sex. Noir was literally the most trustworthy, so there was no danger. She was well aware of Poppy’s limits. She wouldn’t be expected to do anything at all, she could just sit here and enjoy and not even have to deal with the temptation of trying to touch back. Cons, though: What if she didn’t feel anything? Also, not being able to touch back made this feel very one sided...it felt weird, wrong, unfair, that Noir didn’t really get the same amount of pleasure back, right? And, not really a con, she supposed, but if this just turned into a regular sex dream on her end, was that cheating somehow? Maybe she should ask Munmun to turn off REM…

The ultimate answer, though, was yes. Yes because she was still curious if she’d feel anything – sure, she knew her body would react from stimulation, that was just how bodies worked, but would she feel anything in her mind? If Munmun, wonderful baku that she was, left her to her own devices and just let her dream on her own? Since there’d be no risk of waking up – that was impossible until Noir finished the dishes. And it was a yes because Noir always wanted to treat Poppy with equal rewards and they both knew Poppy enjoyed sex with women most of the time, and hell, if, to a fairy, being allowed to do the thing your very existence revolved around was equivalent to sex, who was she to judge? Go ahead, Noir. Start the show. Get her ready, and wet – it took little prompting from Munmun to slip her out of lucid dreaming and back into regular REM. Munmun just started the process, Poppy’s own subconscious would fill in the actual content.

Noir just had to snap her fingers, and suddenly Poppy’s lilac oversized t-shirt and matching cotton underwear were folded neatly on the floor, as was the top cover of the bed. She’d forgone a bra for Netflix and chill, and that just made Noir’s job easier. No barrier in between Poppy’s perfect perky boobs and Noir’s fingers, working slowly and diligently on making those pretty pink nipples stand at attention, sliding a whole hand over them in circles that grew smaller and tighter, pressure increasing, and Poppy didn’t stir, but her eyelids did flicker a little, the start of a sex dream, most likely. Noir wondered for a brief moment if she was in it. It honestly didn’t matter if she was or not – Poppy had gathered a mini-harem of lovers at this point, and everybody was in accord that this was one big polycule of sorts. Noir pressed her lips to Poppy’s nipple, sucking slow and gentle, vowing to leave her face alone because it looked so peaceful and she didn’t want to ruin it. Poppy always preferred more direct erogenous zones anyway, on herself, and Noir reached a hand between her legs to test – yup. Already getting very slick from just the breast play and horny dream alone. Noir had theories about that, theories that, since Poppy complained a lot that sex with strange men didn’t end up anything beyond mediocre, that there were prerequisites that had to be filled that contributed to how fast she got turned on at the barest amount of sensual touch – it took only a few swipes across her clit, that indirect sensation she always craved, and she was wet enough for Noir to slip two fingers in right off the bat, no problem. She kept her mouth toying at Poppy’s nipples, still slow and drawn out, her fingers inside following suit, tracing lazy circles on the interior, and Poppy’s breathing started to hitch a little. Still no real movement aside from a stray signal of REM here or there, but her nipples were hard, and her clit was erect, Noir happily found out, after rubbing it a little more. Her fingers were soaked now, dragging in and out, pressing gently on the spongy texture of Poppy’s g-spot.

Inside her head, Poppy was having the time of her life. It followed the formula of all of her other sex dreams, just, this time the other party didn’t have defined features, which also wasn’t actually new, just rare. It didn’t make her moan any less, or squirm any less, or not want to beg and plead for more, whispers in her dreams not actually reaching her lips in the real world. That mouth on her own, the feel of silicone sliding in and out of her, delicate feminine hands groping her breasts, one reaching to rub her clit. In her dream, she could kiss back, exploring the mystery woman’s mouth with her tongue, sucking on her lips, and she could reach a hand between the stranger’s legs, and bring them back just as wet as she was herself, arching her back in ecstasy as the woman tugged at her hair at the base of her scalp.

As fun as it was to write lewd words inside of Poppy with her fingers, Noir knew Poppy would probably have wanted a little more than that, so, pulling away from her breasts, giving a nipple one last lick, Noir readjusted, straddling her and spreading legs out so their clits could touch exactly the way Poppy always adored. Poppy was halfway done already, responsive even if she wasn’t aware, even if her hands were limp when Noir reached for them to get in the right position. Noir continued the same slow but consistent rhythm, grinding against Poppy’s vulva with her own, increasing the speed at predictable intervals, all the while bending in close to whisper “I love you” in Poppy’s ear. The only reactions she got were physical – Poppy went tense, and if Noir still had fingers inside of her, they probably would have been squished to death with how hard Poppy’s muscles clenched. A few seconds later, Poppy went still again, breathing and heart rate back to normal resting levels, although the bottom of the sheet was a bit of a mess in the aftermath. Noir blinked and the sheets were changed for the second time.

In her dream, though, Poppy’s orgasm was way more dramatic – it hit her like a truck, first of all, unpredictable, coming out of nowhere, but the waves of pleasure screaming out of every cell was a new kind of high she didn’t think was possible. She’d been so caught up in eating mystery woman out, getting her tongue to cover every single nook and cranny of this vulva that was practically drooling for her, that she hadn’t noticed she was at her own climax until it was too late and all she could do was pause for a minute and ride it out – or try to, rather, because it bubbled all the way to her throat and somehow, even though this woman had no identity she could think of, Noir’s name came out of her mouth anyway, in between outright screams of bliss. She was left panting, every single muscle exhausted, and the post-orgasm mist swirled and morphed into ASMR tingles before fading to black.

She woke up to the sound of gentle whispering in her hear, headphone quality. Then, the next sense to come back was touch – that was definitely the silk sheets of the safe house bed, on parts of her body that she’d only logically be able to feel if she were...naked. Huh. She opened her eyes to Noir sitting at the edge of the bed, flipping through some latest tech magazine. From this distance, she made out the blurry image of the latest gen Ryzen cpu, in between text she couldn’t read and info graphics that she assumed were specs. Inhaling, the sheets smelled clean, but that didn’t prove anything. In fact, she felt...well, she felt like she’d had sex, to put it bluntly. That distinct sensation of post-coital afterglow was flowing through every limb, in a different way than a satisfying sex dream would cause – though she had very vague snippets of that happening, too. Slowly, those bits and pieces got more detailed as she took her time remembering, perking up when Noir put the magazine down to ruffle her hair, but it still felt like an obvious dream. And yet, taking stock of herself, all the signals of real sex having taken place were there, biologically. There was one definitive test – she reached her hand down and flinched, not even getting to make it to the glans proper, the hood was still so sensitive. Yeah, Noir had played with her, alright. She hoped Noir enjoyed it, because while it wasn’t terrible…

“Kinda disappointed I didn’t get to actually really feel anything aside from the aftermath.” Poppy pouted. “I don’t think the dream counts.”

“That’s fair.” Noir put the magazine back in the rack, nice and neat, where it belonged. The whole place was literally sparkling, even materials that shouldn’t realistically gleam like this. Noir really put her all into it today. “We don’t have to do it again if you don’t like it. Or we can switch.” That’d be a little difficult – Nothing but Munmun or Poppy’s powers were safely guaranteed to keep Noir out as long and as deep as necessary and Poppy was still a little unsure about Noir’s biology.

“Hmmm. Maybe. I’ll think about it.” Right now she wanted to get cozy again – wanted Noir to get cozy with her again. She reached over for her clothes and got dressed once more, and Noir accepted her invitation to bed, grabbing a different magazine – Gothic Beauty, for Poppy’s sake – and settled in, melting into Poppy’s chatter about how cute Noir would look in some of these outfits. It started to drizzle outside, giving Noir her own pleasant tingles, and she let herself drift to the feeling of Poppy’s satisfaction.


End file.
